The Black Coats(8)

Nixon gave her a sympathetic smile. “They won’t believe you. We have many lovely women on the police force here in Austin who are Black Coats alumni, so I’m sure they’ll help us out as well.”

Thea frowned. “I won’t tell anyone.” I don’t even have friends, she thought.

Nixon shrugged. “It’s necessary to protect ourselves. It’s nothing personal.”

There was a loud slam from behind them, followed by a frustrated shout. Nixon brushed back a single strand of hair from her face, tucking it neatly behind her ear. “That will be our next recruit trying to get through the door. Frankly, I’m not sure she’s going to make it; Sahil is pretty strong, and the last recruit caught him off guard.” She winked at Thea and smiled, showing off her perfect white teeth lined up in a neat row.

Nixon walked over to what appeared to be a solid wall and then, with a push of her hand, swung open a hidden door. “If you go out through here and take a right at the split, this will also take you to the main foyer. You’ll pass a table with some light refreshments: some biscuits, pimiento cheese crackers, and sweet tea. Please help yourself if you are hungry. Your clothes will be in a bag near the door.” Then she politely waved her hand. “You’re dismissed.”

Thea walked away from her, clutching the envelope in her hand so tightly she could feel her fingers going numb. The doorway led into a long, winding hallway of cherrywood panels and cozy hanging lights. She passed several shut doors, each one marked with a number and a plaque with a strange symbol: a bird, a banner, a crown. One sat cracked open at the end of the hall, a small sliver of light spilling out onto the floor. From inside Thea could hear the cadence of older female voices.

“The water grows shallower each year. I’m just not sure it’s a safe place anymore. They are building that gaudy new home not far from there, and it’s a pebble’s throw away from the Breviary—”

“Hush. Someone is coming.” A loud voice, croaking with age, silenced them. “We will not speak of this until we have new information. It is not the time to worry now, not with new girls to vet.”

Thea walked quickly past the door, finding her way back to the entrance. A tiny chalkboard sign hanging on a hook from the front door read, “Thank you for visiting us!” The plastic bag hanging from it was knotted with a bow of burlap twine and a small clutch of wildflowers. She pushed her way out the door and into the humid fog that was now filling the valley, swallowing the house and its secrets.

Thea drove out the way she came, carefully placing the picture of Natalie on the dashboard where her dear friend’s eyes could watch her every turn. Bursting, awkward laughs tumbled from Thea’s lips as she relived what had just happened to her. As she drove, she glanced periodically over to the black envelope resting on the passenger seat, touching it every few minutes to make sure that this wasn’t all a dream.





Four


Thea was bursting with excitement as she pulled the Civic up in front of her white clapboard house. As she parked, a flash of a man climbing a ladder across the street caught her eye. She couldn’t wait to open the black envelope and yet—what the hell was happening over there?

She tucked the envelope into her backpack and strolled across the yard, an uncomfortable lump making its way up her throat as she stopped cold on the lawn. They were painting Natalie’s house. Her dad had told her last week that it had been sold and that the new owners would be moving in soon, but this . . . this was unacceptable. Natalie’s house had once been a bright, happy yellow, the brightest on the block, and now two men dressed in coveralls were splashing a bright crimson red across the exterior. Red.

Fury rose up through Thea and she clenched her fists. “Are you kidding me?” she snapped, unable to control herself. She felt a hand rest on her shoulder, and Thea leaned back against her mother. “I hate it,” she stated. “Why does it have to be red?”

Her mother, a stunning black woman sometimes mistaken for a famous soap star, shook her head and sighed, her eyes betraying a new weariness. “I saw them come this morning, and I knew it was going to hurt.”

They both stood in silence, watching the painters roll the lines of paint fluidly across the siding. Her mother squeezed her shoulder.

“How about we move?” whispered Thea, not the first time she had suggested it.

“We’re working on it.” She gave Thea a gentle pat and then turned her around. “Love, I got a call from your school today. They said that you left during fourth period and were absent for all your classes after that. What happened?”

Thea dropped her head, trying to think fast. “I, umm . . . I got upset in class and just wanted to go to my car.”

Her mother’s words were cautiously gentle, echoing the social-worker tone she used at work. “It’s okay to excuse yourself if you need some time to process your emotions. However, after you are done, you need to go back to class.” As she continued, Thea closed her eyes, listening to the same conversation her parents had with her week after week. They were trying to be supportive, but there was a wall, and she couldn’t figure out how to get over it, to where her parents were, to where the rest of life was. Everything seemed numb, like she was looking at the world through a fogged-up window.

Then she remembered the black envelope in her backpack. That was something worth waking up for. A purpose, a mission, a secret. Revenge. Her fingers tingled.